She nods, something understanding in her expression. “Colt and her other brothers will come around. You’ll see.”
But I’m not so convinced. And frankly, I don’t give a fuck if they do. I’m not here to convince them of anything.
I’m here to convince Regan.
Chapter 35: Regan
Three days later…?
“Are you okay?” Rae asks me again from the driver’s seat, her voice soft but insistent. It’s probably the thousandth time she’s asked since we left the hospital, and I still don’t have a real answer.
Molly is beside her, staring out the window, and Lydia’s in the back with me, close enough that her silence feels like a question too. Their concern hangs heavy in the air, thick and stifling. It feels less like we’re driving to my new home and more like we’re headed to my wake.
I sigh. “Yes, for the millionth time, I’m fine.”
Rae huffs, and Lydia chuckles softly, squeezing my hand like she’s trying to reassure me that she’s here if I need her.
I know they mean well. I know that they’re here for me. They’re looking out for me, making sure I’m okay riding in a car after the accident, an accident that I still don’t remember. Despite searching every corner of my mind, trying to force the memory to surface, it stays hidden. And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe if I did remember, I’d be more afraid right now. Maybe I’d feel something other than this strange emptiness where a hole of memories I didn’t know I lost are missing.
The hospital, where I’ve been staying for almost two weeks now, is only a short drive from Mrs. Mayberry’s home—where I was told three days ago that I live now and before I know it, we’re pulling down the long, familiar, dirt driveway, and something in my chest tightens.
Because I know this place. I know it better than I know my own body.
I roll down the window, inhaling deeply, letting the familiar scent of fresh-cut grass and sunshine fill my lungs. The Blue Ridge Mountains rise in the distance, deep green against the late spring sky. The trees lining the driveway are in full bloom, their branches swaying in the warm breeze as they welcome May. The house stands just beyond them, its’ white wraparound porch welcoming.
I smile at the home that’s always been so full of personality. The old swing Mrs. Mayberry used to push me in is creaking slightly in the wind and for a second, I feel like a kid again, like I’m seven years old with scraped knees, sitting on that swing while she braids my hair and hums an old country song. I’d probably be rambling on about my friends and classes and my dreams to be a princess someday. Somewhere off in the distance, I imagine Mr. Mayberry listening to old school Garth Brooks while he brushes his horses in the stables.
A sharp pain lances through my chest. If Mr. Mayberry isn’t here to have cut the grass. And neither is Mrs. Mayberry, then who did it? Something tells me it wasn’t one of my brothers. Something tells me it was Hayes.
Hayes Walker.
My freaking one-night stand from seven years ago. The hot cowboy, the bull rider who rocked my world, played my body like an instrument, and then watched me walk away after I left his hotel room. The same man I told not to fall in love with me after spilling my most painful secret—that I was losing one of my fallopian tubes, that I might never have kids despite wanting them desperately.
Heat rises in my body unexpectedly.
Because though Molly and Declan explained to me three days ago that I now live with him—a completely bizarre detail that I still can’t quite process how he even ended up in this town—I didn’t react the way I thought I would in shock. And when they told me that I married him willingly because of Mrs. Mayberry’s twisted contract in order to obtain ownership of the property that she practically gave us for free? Well, I felt… nothing.
Because I don’t remember it.
Not a single second.
Living with him. Marrying him. Agreeing to a marriage of convenience.
Were we just roommates? Molly explained that he agreed to the marriage for the property, for the one-of-a-kind horses he wanted to board there and ride during his days off. And I did it for the wedding business. But the strangest part? The night of the accident, we were having our wedding. Our second wedding, I guess.
And I have nothing. No memories of what our relationship was like. No recollection of how we went from pretty much strangers to legally bound or whether we were even friends or just business partners.
Instead, I’m stuck on Declan. The last thing I remember is dating him. That we were together, that we were sleeping in the same bed most nights at his house, that I cared for him, and he cared for me. And when he came to the hospital to tell me I turned down his proposal? That I walked away from him? It shattered everything I thought I presently knew.
Tonight, I asked him to dinner. A date at one of our old, favorite barbecue places. Just to catch up. Because while everyone insists that so much has changed, I don’t remember the most recent changes, and I need to understand why I turned him down and left.
The tires crunch over gravel as we pull up to Mrs. Mayberry’s home. My home. The pond glistens beyond the porch, and it looks like just how I remember it just a little more polished. The windows sparkle, the furniture on the porch is clean, and everything feels… taken care of. Like someone’s been keeping it ready for me.
I exhale slowly.
“I can’t believe this is my home now.”
Lydia squeezes my hand as Molly puts the car in park and turns in her seat to face me.
